


The three painters

by MarteloDeAssis



Series: Aizen's poetry playground [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Bodily Fluids, Erotic Poetry, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Figurative Language, Gay Sex, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Oral Sex, Poetry, Prose Poem, Rhyme Sex, Rhyming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-08 22:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19876888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarteloDeAssis/pseuds/MarteloDeAssis
Summary: Aizen opens his gardens to his circle of poetry. Young lads drink, declaim poetry, paint and produce art in and out of their bodies.'The lads jump with the deer and the gazelle, taunt the lions and tigers that among them dwell, wild and pure from the taint of the hood, the robe and even the shoes. The stroke of the bristle of whatever brush those artists bent was doomed to bind perfection in paint, and whatever canvas it would taint, the sublime beauty would produce, be it devil or saint.'





	The three painters

**Author's Note:**

> Basically Bleach characters become poets who drink and fuck in a idyllic garden, full of nature and stuff. They only talk in verse and narration has rhymes. It's an experiment, if people like it I'll continue with the series, involving more characters and stuff.

The foamy streams of water, that from the peak piercing high up the land and skies descends, reach the lake wildly and soon in tame mirror presents. Those of whatever hue between marble and ebony, drink from their own reflection the sparkling water of vanity, so refreshing and so tasteless that it serves to rest from their poetry.

The lads jump with the deer and the gazelle, taunt the lions and tigers that among them dwell, wild and pure from the taint of the hood, the robe and even the shoes. The stroke of the bristle of whatever brush those artists bent was doomed to bind perfection in paint, and whatever canvas it would taint, the sublime beauty would produce, be it devil or saint.

And so, the gazelle could paint the deer or the lion, the lion could brush the lad and the gazelle and the lad could do equally well, for there was no deer, gazelle, lad, lion or tiger, just paint, brush and canvas, to be defiled by those devils and saints. Such was the poetry of them, who yet would care to rest.

AIZEN SOUSUKE:

“A toast to the wine

A toast to the lads,

That those who whine

Do it from the beds.

That those who moan

Make it feel up to the bone.”

This was his place, the garden of his grace, the ruler of those fields, where tree, rock, grass, earth and water were bed to his fellows. Though abundant were places to lie and lay, more bountiful was the wine to lie and lay. Such that the air swirled and spun, along with the lads in the run aimlessly in the rut.

Speaking of those, three were the brushes, the paint and the canvases. Though white and pastel the paint, of the texture of thick slick, there was wine to paint with crimson, bright, fine liquid. And the brushes shared the mixture.

KUROSAKI ICHIGO:

“Here I lie, in the soil to soil,

In the grass, for you to press

Your brush with its oil.

Give me, oh, saint, your bless.

Smear and spread your grace

Artist, leave no blank space ”

IZURU KIRA:

“The noble valley I ask

To accept this pink dress.

With red wine I mask

The white of my mess.

And you, oh, landscape

Let me brush along your shape”

HITSUGAYA TOUSHIROU:

“Sweet is the wine, sweetest

When mine. I bestow on you

My brush, that you may attest

Holds enough for two.

Glacé on the canvas I paint

Your eyes and mouth I taint.”

KUROSAKI ICHIGO:

“I see no more, my eyes!

drenched in artful sublime!

Even the most secret of grooves

Has been dyed of candid slime!

And the land now feels rich,

So much the brush could ditch.”

HITSUGAYA TOUSHIROU:

“Of art and land a marsh,

Seeing thee cry so harsh,

For the stroke so shallow

To reach deeper, oh, hallow,

I ask thy ridge, how much of pink

And how much of my brush shall sink?

Oh, Hallow, tainted by the devil,

Why dost thou defile my intent?

Oh, Hallow, why not revel?

Thou tame entices me with scent

Like tiger before meek sport,

I say, too much for reason to support”

Thence the tiger had its way with the gazelle, both drawn with paint and wine by the devils and saint. The devil defiled by the saint, oh, Hallow. How evil could this marble angel be? how sensual can a sweet and tender fruit be? It is not the pulp, nor the bite, but the very fruit, before the pulp and the bite that enslaved the poor devil. Just as the poor gazelle draws the tiger without a premise, so did the hallow with the devil.

KUROSAKI ICHIGO:

“Oh, tiger, oh lad, oh deer

Oh, devil that held me dear,

Hath thou sated with wine

Thy thirst? I ask, dine

In my flesh, with fang, tongue

And bone, sensual and young.

For when I’ve served your urge

It’ll be me to surge, my deer.

Lick and sink, inside me merge,

I’ll hold and entertain you, dear.

I’m your art, enjoy you work,

Next It’ll be my brush to jerk!

IZURU KIRA:

“Let me, oh said hallow

This tiger paint anew.

Take it, kitten, swallow,

Guzzle on my brew.

And so paint is ready,

It’s time for my brush already.”

HITSUGAYA TOUSHIROU:

“Let us play, make me bleat!

Let me seize the whole of you dick!

Quickly, have no fear

And I’ll moan to your ear!

My claws are blunt, so my teeth,

Now I’m but to your sword a sheath!

Yes! What a blast!

Desecrated at last!

Allow me, oh hallow

To be a deer in the meadow.

As you, my dear, akin

To a lion have been.”

KUROSAKI ICHIGO:

“Blasted, you say?

I’ll burst and spray

My lust inside

As thou I ride!

Now clench and fight,

And I’ll gush in my white!

The art was done, a final brush second to none. Now paint and wine had to dry, as no more poetry they could try. Three lads, their brushes and all dazed, sullied and thirsty for water they gazed at each other, lastly admiring how glazed were one another.


End file.
